Three Years, Two Shells, a Late Diagnosis and a Rescue

For more than three years, Vyacheslav hid in Kherson, avoiding forced conscription while his wife and son waited safely in Israel. Months before his sixtieth birthday, two artillery shells struck his building. He survived, a first miracle, but doctors then discovered advanced oncological condition requiring immediate treatment.

With the regional oncology wing long destroyed, Israel became the only path. Through her brother, previously rescued from Kherson by Wings of Faith together with his wife, Vyacheslav’s wife contacted Rabbi Yitzchak and Hodaya. What had been a plan for after sixty turned into a medical emergency.

Thanks to generous donors in Los Angeles who answered the urgent appeal, our medical team evacuated Vyacheslav in an armored ambulance through active danger zones and multiple checkpoints. Today he is receiving life-saving treatment in Netanya, reunited with his family. Your support turned fear into hope.

Your gift funds the next medical evacuation. Give today.

Three Years, Two Shells, a Late Diagnosis and a Rescue - Full story

A Life in Hiding

A late stage diagnosis just months before sixty turned hiding into a race for life.

For more than three years, terror and hiding in Kherson had reduced Vyacheslav to a shadow of himself. In his small one room apartment on the third floor of a crumbling building, loneliness became something tangible, almost a physical presence. Night after night, sirens and bombings echoed throughout the city, the noise becoming part of his life's soundtrack. Amid all the chaos, he hid from recruitment patrols hunting men in the streets. Every knock at the door was a threat. Every step in the building's hallway meant danger.

"Just a year and a half," he whispered to himself each night before sleep, counting down to freedom. "A year and a half until I'm sixty."

His wife and son were already safe in Israel, but he remained behind, trapped in a deadly game of hide-and-seek with the authorities. During video calls, he saw his son's pleading eyes: "Dad, escape from there." And his wife's gaze hiding tears: "We're waiting for you."

He had no real protection. No shelter, no bunker, no reinforced door. Instead, he arranged a corner in the inner hallway, away from windows, close to an escape route. That's where he spent his nights, on a thin mattress, listening to the dying city. The city's infrastructure was repeatedly bombed: days without water, weeks without heating, and power outages that became routine. Winter was especially difficult.

Two Shells and the First Miracle

The first whistle was barely perceptible.

The second shook the air.

A year and a half before his sixtieth birthday, on a particularly stormy night, two artillery shells hit the building. Vyacheslav didn't hear the first explosion. He felt it: a tremor spreading from the roof, dust falling from the ceiling, an ominous creaking of concrete beams. The second shell came seconds later, piercing the outer wall of the building.

The world fell apart around him. Parts of the floor collapsed, walls cracked, and the darkness filled with concrete dust and broken glass.

Amidst all the chaos, the inner hallway, the only place he chose to sleep, remained standing. First miracle.

Vyacheslav managed to reach the stairs and get outside. When he finally reached the street, he collapsed to his knees. "I'm alive," he thought in shock, "somehow I'm still alive."

A Race Against Time

But the life that was saved now faced another danger.

A few months before his sixtieth birthday, the lump was discovered. The doctor at one of the small clinics that survived in the bombarded city looked at him with hopeless eyes. "You need treatment immediately," he said, "treatment we don't have here."

Vyacheslav looked at the scans, at the white mass glowing against a gray background. Just a few more months and he would be sixty. Free, finally, to leave his hiding place and cross the border without fear of forced conscription.

Now it became clear his body wouldn't wait.

"How much time do I have?" he asked. "Without treatment? Two months, maybe less."

The oncology department at the regional hospital had been bombed many months earlier, leaving no real oncology care in Kherson. The remaining options were limited: treatment in apartment conditions, without special equipment and even without regular running water.

"I won't make it," he told his wife on the phone, "I need to get out now."

A Family Connection Becomes a Lifeline

Thousands of kilometers away, in a small kitchen in Netanya, Vyacheslav's wife held the phone with trembling hands. She couldn't think, only act.

Her brother and his wife had been rescued from Kherson two years earlier by "Wings of Faith." Since then, the family had maintained contact with Rabbi Yitzchak and Hodaya, the organization's founders, knowing that one day Vyacheslav would need them too. The plan was to wait until he turned sixty, when he would be exempt from military service. But the illness changed everything.

In an urgent phone call with Hodaya from "Wings of Faith," she told everything. The shells. The damaged building. And now, the diagnosis. "My husband has survived hell for more than three years," she said in a trembling voice, "but now I'm afraid his body will betray him right before freedom."

From Los Angeles to Kherson

Vyacheslav's story reached Los Angeles just in time. In a synagogue filled with Jews who barely knew the reality of that war, a picture was shown of a Jewish man nearly 60 years old who needed urgent rescue from Kherson for emergency medical treatment in Israel. "Our window of opportunity is narrow," Rabbi Yitzchak addressed the congregation, "days, not weeks." That day, donations were collected that not only made Vyacheslav's rescue possible but opened the door to saving additional souls.

Operation "Path to Life"

Operation "Path to Life" began late at night. A medical team from "Wings of Faith" secretly entered the combat zone.

Fortunately for Vyacheslav, due to his serious medical condition, he already had documents allowing him to be urgently evacuated for treatments in Israel. This was the key that opened the gate.

In an armored ambulance, under artillery barrages echoing in the background, the dangerous journey began. The team traveled on back roads, passing multiple checkpoints and moving through active danger zones. At every checkpoint, Vyacheslav held his breath. If they caught him now...

But they weren't caught. The ambulance passed the last danger point and proceeded toward the border. Second miracle.

A New Beginning

Today Vyacheslav is undergoing treatments at the oncology department in Netanya. When we visited him, the family was filled with gratitude and love. His wife and son, now reunited with him after years of separation, couldn't hide their joy despite the challenging circumstances. The family that had been scattered across thousands of kilometers was finally together again.

The treatments are difficult, but the doctors are optimistic. "He has a real chance," they say, "a chance he wouldn't have had there."

This chance was made possible by people who chose to act. Their generosity now fuels further rescues and humanitarian evacuations.

At night, when everyone is asleep, Vyacheslav looks out at the stars above Netanya. He no longer counts days. He counts miracles.

He has counted two already. And waits for the third.

Your gift funds the next medical evacuation. Give today.